


Faith and Trust (and Pixie Dust)

by BananasofThorns



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: And then ends incredibly fluffy, Angst with a Happy Ending, As in you may get cavities from reading it, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I love my two soft gays, It starts really angsty, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 01:26:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16149641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananasofThorns/pseuds/BananasofThorns
Summary: Stephen Strange put his faith in Tony Stark, who in turn placed his trust in a sorcerer who knew the future.





	Faith and Trust (and Pixie Dust)

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to the Doctor Strange discord, who really deserve some fluff

Stephen’s eyes fluttered open and he turned his head slowly, taking in his surroundings. He was laying - floating, really - on what seemed to be an alien spaceship. Shining needles that seemed to be made of razor-sharp glass surrounded him and, standing proudly before him, was Maw. With a flick of his long fingers, Maw sent the needles slowly forward. Stephen eyed them with trepidation, wincing as they slid effortlessly into his skull.

At first, the pain wasn’t so bad and Stephen thought he could hold out until Stark, or the boy, or  _ someone _ would rescue him. But no one came, and Stephen could barely hold back screams as the needles sliced through skin and bone. Stephen caught a glimpse of the cloak on the ledge above and a tiny spark of hope blossomed in his chest, but nothing happened. The hope faded as a glowing mandala shielded the Eye from the same torture Stephen was receiving. A moment later, he could have sworn he heard the sound of a repulsor charging, and desperately wished that shining armor would replace the alien in front of him, but there was nothing. With a sigh, Stephen slumped as much as he could and resigned himself to the pain.

After a few moments even the corner of the cloak he had seen disappeared, and with it the remaining sliver of hope Stephen had. He screamed in agony, the sound ripping through his throat, and received no reaction from anyone or anything around him except for the mocking smirk that grew on Maw’s face. Stephen hid his hands so his captor wouldn’t notice, wouldn’t exploit the weakness.

He had thought, naïvely, that someone cared about the fact that he had been taken, that he was being tortured. He thought that maybe Stark would be that someone. He seemed to be the most compassionate of the Avengers, and Stephen had thought - hoped - that  _ something _ in Stark would drive him to save the sorcerer he had met only an hour ago. Now, Stephen realized that Stark wouldn’t fly all the way to space to save someone he barely knew. Everyone he cared about was on Earth. There was no point in saving a sorcerer with something that would doom the whole universe.

As the needles sank further into his body, Stephen looked hopelessly up for what felt like the thousandth time. Still nothing, but he had expected as such. A scream tore itself out of his mouth and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, there was still no savior.

And then...there was something. A flash of red and gold, and then the Iron Man armor landed behind Maw with a metallic clunk. Stephen nearly cried with relief as Maw, the needles, and - almost - Stephen himself was pulled into the cold nothingness of space. As it was, he barely resisted the urge to collapse into Stark’s arms and sob. There was no time for weakness. Thanos was still coming, he still wanted the stone around Stephen’s neck, and they were still flying through the cosmos toward an unknown fate.

But as Stephen watched the stars race past, he felt his faith for the man beside him grow.

* * *

 

Tony held Stephen steady as his eyes flicked wildly around, taking in their surroundings. They focused briefly on Peter as the teen asked what was happening, and Stephen took a breath before answering.

“I went forward in time to view alternate futures.” Tony glanced at the stone still glowing green on Stephen’s chest. “To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict.”

“How many did you see?” Quill asked before Tony could.

Stephen’s frowned for a second before answering. “Fourteen million, six hundred, and five.”

Cold dread began to spread through Tony’s body. “How many did we win?”

Stephen hesitated before speaking, looking Tony straight in the eye. His own were full of knowledge and sorrow, and Tony vaguely wondered how he was sane. “One.”

From then on, the mood of their ragtag group of heroes was much more somber. Peter showed his fear the most, but he seemed determined to mask it with false bravery. Tony was torn between hugging him and crying. Stephen looked the most resolved, most sure, and Tony guessed it was because he knew what would happen. No matter what they did, he knew if they would fail or succeed. Somehow, Tony found that comforting. If Stephen knew how they would win, he would do everything he could to ensure they followed that path.

So even when their plan failed, when Thanos stabbed him, and when Stephen gave up the time stone for his life, Tony trusted that everything was going as it was supposed to. His trust in Stephen never wavered, even as Thanos disappeared from Titan with a triumphant smirk.

But then Quill, Drax, and Mantis disappeared. And then Stephen was gone, leaving Tony with a single not-very-reassuring reassurance that there was no other way. As he sat alone on an alien planet, with only a cyborg he had never met for company, and with Peter’s ashes stuck to the blood on his hand, Tony wondered if Stephen had messed up. If they had strayed from the path they wanted. If someone had fucked up, and Stephen hadn’t noticed and hadn’t fixed it.

The next months passed in a daze. Tony was focused on reversing what Thanos had done, but there was always a single thought in the back of his mind nagging at him. Was this really the only way, or had Stephen led them down the wrong path? Had he chosen the future that was the most painful for Tony? As he faces down Thanos, teeth bared and bloodied, another question flits through Tony’s brain. Had Stephen left him to die?

It seems that the answer is yes as the final stone snaps into place on Tony’s own gauntlet. Power burns through his veins like fiery acid, and a scream rips itself free from Tony’s throat. But then the dust settles and Thanos is dead, Tony’s left arm his smoking and charred, and everyone is alive. Peter, the Guardians, and  _ Stephen _ . Tony barely manages a thankful smile before the world goes black and another thought crosses his mind.

He was right to trust Stephen Strange, in the end.

* * *

 

Tony wakes up, a week later, in a room that is much too bright. He shifts into a more comfortable position, then wiggles his fingers. Then pauses. One glance is all he needs to confirm his suspicions. His left arm is gone, nothing more than a stump. He must make a noise of surprise because someone beside him moves slightly, sitting up in the uncomfortable plastic chair they’d stationed themselves in.

Tony turns, expecting Peter or Pepper or Rhodey, but it’s someone else. Stephen Strange is watching him, eyes full of...not pity. It’s refreshing, and Tony isn’t all that surprised. The man saw the future, he knew what would happen. Tony doesn’t yell at him for not warning him, for letting him endure all this pain. Instead, he smiles softly.

“Thank you, Stephen,” Tony whispers, voice barely more than a rasp. Stephen blinks, confused, before offering a small smirk in return.

“Of course.”

<->

Two weeks later, Tony is released from the hospital. He goes back to the Compound, at first, but it’s hard to adjust to having only one hand. He’s working on a prosthetic, of course, but first, he has to learn how to type and build with only his right hand. Stephen offers to help him through the first months, and Tony lightly brushes him away. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate it, but he needs to get through this on his own.

Still, when the nightmares are just too much, Tony will drive to the Sanctum. Stephen seems to always be awake, no matter how late or early, and Tony wonders if he ever sleeps.

They’re curled together on a couch, watching the stars with mugs of hot chocolate in hand, when Tony finally asks. Stephen studies him for a moment, a sad smile on his face, before answering.

“I do, very rarely.” He takes a deep breath, turning away and focusing on the night sky. “Most times, though, the nightmares are too bad. The crash, Dormammu, every single future I saw on Titan….” He trails off, shaking fingers unconsciously entwining with Tony’s.

“I’m here, you know. If you ever...want to talk,” Tony murmurs awkwardly. He’s never made the offer before, and somehow it feels intimate. Stephen smiles softly, leaning down to brush a kiss onto Tony’s hairline.

“I would like that.”


End file.
